


Comforting Ghosts

by hawkfruit



Category: Starship Promise (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, I just love writing sad Atlas apparently, Mild Gore, Nightmares, One Shot, Short One Shot, Sort Of, though when is he not sad let's be honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkfruit/pseuds/hawkfruit
Summary: Atlas wakes up from a nightmare, only to panic when he sees the Promise's engineer isn't beside him where she said she'd always be.





	Comforting Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> I'm soft, and in love with Atlas, and desperately craving cuddles, so here's this, I guess. MC's name is Hallie. It takes place sometime after their relationship is well established, like post S4, but has no particular spoilers for any season.

He could feel a throbbing ringing through his skull, traveling down every muscle of his body. A flash of light, hands gripping knuckle-white against the controls of the ship, screams of pain. Images sift in and out of his consciousness and nothing is constant except the heavy panting of his breath and the pain, the  _ pain. _ Thick trails of blood. A scattered array of broken glass. Shouts somewhere behind him as the whole horizon goes shifting into freefall. 

Suddenly he’s laying in the wreckage of a ship, the bride half buried into the ground and light harshly beaming through open gashes in the ceiling. He stumbles, limping, crawling towards a crumpled figure a few feet away from him. Something in his chest feels like it was ripped out with a fist, a jagged hole threatening to cut off his breath. He makes it, wide-eyed and frantic, and pulls the figure against his knees and cradled in his arms. The engineer’s body felt heavy with the weight of the world, bruises and scrapes gashed across her skin, blonde hair matted with dried blood. He feels his entire world crush in on him, shuddering to try and breathe, only the sound of his pulse and his frantic  _ no no no, _ inside his mind registering. His hands are trembling violently and he can feel the burning heat of tears scalding a trail down his cheeks. Her head lulls to face him and he sees a blank-eyed, lifeless stare aimed at the sunlight.

He shoots up in bed.

It takes Atlas a second to gather his surroundings, a moment of his chest heaving, and sweat coursing down. He sags his head down between his shoulder blades, trying to remind himself how to breathe, body still shaking down every inch of his nerves.  _ It’s okay, _ a voice in the back of his head tries to say.  _ It’s okay. That was fake. She’s here. _

With a shuddering exhale of breath he reminds himself she’s here. He turns in a sluggish motion to her side of the bed, to let the sight of Hallie curled up within the blankets calm him. It takes a moment of blinking for him to realize she’s not actually there.

He blinks again.

She’s not there.

He basically launches himself at the mattress, fabric wrinkled but notably empty of his favorite engineer. His hands go to feel the spot, but his heart is pounding and the fever-hot ice of his sweat leaves him unable to feel any temperature.  _ It’s fine, it’s fine, she’s somewhere, _ Atlas tells himself as he stumbles out of bed, hands hurridly pressing on the lights and eyes squinting against the sudden brightness of the room as he tries to find her. She’s not at his desk, not near the closet. He knocks on the bathroom door and opens it when there’s no response, and she’s not there either. 

Panic rises through him as the logical side of his brain shuts down on him.  _ Something happened, _ this stupid, illogical, desperate voice in the back of his head says.  _ She’s in danger.  _ And maybe it’s the sleep haze, or the fact that they’ve been in danger so many times, or that she has a self-sacrificing martyr complex, or that she’s the first and only person he’s ever loved like this, every worried about like this, ever felt every single string of his heart connected to, but he listens. 

He hastily throws himself out of his room and runs down the corridor, checking every possible location. The bridge. The electrical closet. The kitchen. The break room. Nowhere.  _ Nowhere. _ He’s literally about to throw himself on his hands and knees, because clearly he’s lost his god damn mind, to look underneath couches.

“Hello?” Called a hesitant voice out in the dark.

He spun, almost embarrassingly wildly, green eyes flashing to try and squint hard enough to make out the figure in the dark. Not that he needed to, since her voice was engraved in the lines of his palms, in the deepest part of his heart, but he  _ wanted _ to. To make sure it was really her. To make sure his mind wasn’t playing cruel tricks on him.

“Hallie?” He asked, and if he was more focused he’d hate the way his voice came out, nervous and unsure. Weak.

“Atlas. C’mere.” Concern was clear in her voice but it rang as genuine and calming as always, as she beckoned him with her slim hands towards him.

He walked numbly over, only now processing where she was. He forgot there was a small corner of the break room that had a locked cabinet nailed to the wall, so the books wouldn’t fly out when they made their hasty maneuvers, and a small couch right next to it. It was hidden in shadows, but as he walked his eyes were finally accustomed to the dark. Enough that when Atlas stood over her he could see the copper blonde of her hair, could see the pale bareness of her arms as she sat him down on the couch.

She moved him easily, and a moment later she was draping herself sideways over his legs, wrapping her arms gently around his neck and peering into his eyes. He told himself it was the stupid nightmare-ridden shock he had that made his brain so fuzzy around her right now, but deep down he knew she always had this effect on him. Especially when his walls were so low that he couldn’t hide it.

“Atlas?”

He fluttered his eyes shut, breathing in the smell of Hallie’s proximity, the gentle rose-water of her shampoo and the softness of her against him. The heat of her skin where it touched him, the embrace of her. He moved to bury his nose against her neck, and her hands went to stroke through his hair in a repetitive motion, until she tugged softly at the nape of his neck before starting over. He focused on the steady pulse at her throat, at the feel of her safely in his arms, at her caress. Finally, for the first time that night he felt himself relaxing.

She must have felt it too, a testament to how well she had come to know him because she spoke again.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” Her voice was genuine and caring, and soft. 

Atlas pulled back and just took a moment to stare at her eyes. Then he nuzzled into her palm, mostly on instinct, and so much sheer adoration shone through her eyes that he actually had to look away. Even if he was comfortable in their relationship, in a way he had never been with anyone, not even himself, there were moments that she looked at him… and he couldn’t deal with the emotions that flooded the heart. He still had trouble convincing himself this tender intimacy was aimed at him. From her, of all people.

“I love your hands,” he mumbled absently.

She gave him a confused look. “Really? But they’re full of gross callouses.”

“That’s what’s best about them,” he said, brain too fuzzy to censor himself. To build up his walls again. Maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe in the dark of night, when her nerves and anxieties were muted, he could be open with her, he could be soft, and he could enjoy it. “They’re soft and small,” he carefully grabbed the hand that was resting against his neck, kissing each knuckle between his words, “but those callouses show just how hard you work. Just how much you love being an engineer, and how good you are at it.”

Her eyes widened as a blush vividly appeared against her skin. In his exhausted state he could only manage a ghost of a grin before going to kiss the palm of her hand. She mumbled something sheepishly and pulled her free hand away, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.” He let go of the hand he was holding and she cupped it against his cheek. His eyes fluttered again. He wasn’t sure how she could do that, but she did. In a softer voice she whispered, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just know I’m here for you.”

Atlas sighed. A few moments passed in comfortable, dark silence before he finally spoke again. He averted his eyes and half-mumbled as he glared at the wall behind her head. “It was a bad dream. Part of it was a flashback, part of it was new stuff, but it was annoying. And I guess I haven’t had a bad one in a while, so when I woke up I was disoriented, and not seeing you there irrationally freaked me out.” He didn’t want to whine to her, didn’t want to appear weak or useless. But he knew her. He knew she, somehow, accepted every part of him. The good and the bad. And she loved him despite it. Loved him  _ because _ of it, he reminded himself, but he wasn’t sure how. Wasn’t sure how he came to find her, how he came to deserve her, how she stuck around. But he was sure he would never, ever lose her, and he’d keep her safe for as long as she’d let him. His eyes flitted back to her wide ones. “I’m so used to waking up next to you now.”

She didn’t say anything, momentarily struck speechless, fingers gently caressing the stubble of his cheek. 

He gave a sardonic chuckle, but it had no real bite behind it. “Sorry. 3am, or whatever time is in space, and I’ve become a huge sap, huh? Obviously you don’t have to sleep next to me all the time. My mind was just—”

Hallie pressed a quiet kiss against his forehead, leaving him breathless. 

It as ridiculous really, because they had shared countless kisses before, had shared the passion of heat, of intertwined limbs, of breathy caresses, but something was so tender, so simple, so loving, so  _ safe _ with the peck against his head that he completely lost his ability to breathe, never mind speak.

“I  _ always _ want to wake up next to you, if I can help it,” she said, in her impossible mix of confident and honey-sweet gentle. “Why don’t we go back to bed and try again?”

Hand intertwined with his, she guided him like the light she was across the Promise’s corridors, and he absently followed. All he could focus on was the exhaustion pulling at his eyes, and the way her hair bobbed against her shoulder blades. When she stripped off her jacket and climbed in bed she invited him with open arms and he followed suit only a few moments later. He lay his head down against her chest, arms wrapped protectively around her stomach, as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, his back. Her legs were intertwined around his like puzzle pieces, and his nose was pressed against the crook of her neck, so when he fell asleep it was surrounded by her, her,  _ her.  _ And this time, no nightmares came.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Leave a kudos and tell me what you think? Atlas deserves to be happy.


End file.
